


Tomorrow's Dream

by Voib



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Pregnancy, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Loving Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Other, Oviposition, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Parent Dean Winchester, Porn With Plot, Pre-Relationship, Pregnant Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21690130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voib/pseuds/Voib
Summary: “What are you saying, Dean?”“I’m saying that he—” Dean couldn’t spit the words out, so he paused. “He pretty much knocked me up.”“You’re—” Sam looked out the window at a loss for words. He ran his hands through his hair, tangling it more in his stress, before he tried to continue the conversation. “There’s somethinginsideof you?”“I didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees, Sammy.”“How the hell do we get rid of it?” he said with a sense of urgency.✦✧✦✧✦After being 'sacrificed' to Yokoth and Glythur, Dean winds up being the vessel to deliver their offspring. Though unwitting, Dean makes the best out of a bad situation.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Tentacle Monster
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	Tomorrow's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. So. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a short thing. But then I saw a plot in it, and I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Enjoy the weird complexities of this fic, but don't forget to _read the tags first. There is rape/non-con at the beginning._ If you're looking to skip it, you should be safe after the first one of these:
> 
> ✦✧✦✧✦

Dean struggled against his bonds. The hideous thing coming at him from the portal in the ceiling was getting closer to his body. His wrists were feeling raw from the chains and the rough marble of the table was biting into his back. 

Even fully clothed, Dean didn’t have enough padding to even _nearly_ be comfortable. But he couldn’t think about that right now. The swirling purple mass of tentacles was descending, and he _had_ to get out of there before he became the _host_ , or whatever, for Glythur. The woman’s chanting hadn’t ceased, but it was being drowned out by the sheer volume of the portal opening. 

Dean dodged a stray tentacle, it’s tip opening to show a long, hollow tube of blackness. The thing nearly got to Dean’s face before he surged to the left, avoiding it just in time. 

The thing didn’t let up though. Tentacles had begun to surround him, caressing over his legs and his chest. They were holding him in place and Dean wasn’t strong enough to struggle in their tight grip. 

He was really praying for a miracle right now. 

No one came in the nick of time to miraculously save him, so Dean focused on the problem at hand. With the vice-like strength of the primordial monster above him, it was clear that Dean’s wasn’t going to move enough to get the cuffs off of his wrists. The being, though devilishly smart enough to create evil plans and to open portals, couldn’t have been completely immortal, right? It _had_ to have a weak spot. 

Dean’s eyes searched for something— _anything_ —that would suggest escape. But the monster didn’t have eyes to gouge out or something to knock away. And it was strong enough to resist anything that Dean could have tried to defend himself with. 

A smaller, slim tentacle had wrapped around his forehead and stabilized his head, making it hard for him to see around the room for other opportunities to escape. 

And then the open-ended tentacle began to try again, but this time, it knew that it had Dean right where it needed him. It lingered, caressing over his face with another appendage before it tried to attach to his face. 

Dean jerked away from the vile thing, clamping his mouth shut and willing himself not to breathe, if only the thing would leave him alone. 

But in the end, the thing was stronger. 

It attacked his mouth, and Dean could feel it suction itself over his face. And something—something was forcing his lips apart from inside of the longer tube of the tentacle. 

The thing began to plunge down his throat, searching past his tonsils to his esophagus and deeper. Dean gagged, but the appendage continued to go deeper down his throat until he was forced to adjust or choke on his own fluids. 

It went until it found what it was searching for. Dean didn’t know _what_ exactly, but the appendage began to withdraw, easing its way out of his body. The thing attached to his face stayed, but the interior tentacle seemed to be finished with its job and reentered the larger tube. 

There was a pause. Dean’s eyes were watering from the abuse to his gag reflex, so he didn’t see the thick masses inching their way down the larger tentacle until they were close to his palate. And by then, it was too late. 

Something slimy with mucus met his lips, but Dean found that he couldn’t shut his mouth to block the intrusion. The slim tentacle from earlier must have used some kind of numbing agent that left him useless to resist. It felt like he couldn’t control his jaw. 

A mass met his lips and he was forced to accept it into his body. It slipped down his throat as easily as a golf ball sized mass could have, and it dropped into Dean’s stomach. One more began to push against the next, forcing them faster than Dean could handle. His throat convulsed, trying to spit them up, but the sheer force that the tentacle exerted kept them going steady. One by one, the spheres were implanted where he could feel their forms pushing out his numbed throat. 

Dean counted each mass that entered his body—whatever they were—and once the creature finally withdrew, he had a grand total of 17 of those things inside of him. 

Once it let go of him and retreated back to whatever portal it had come from, the blonde woman began to unlock his cuffs. Dean knew that at that point it was best for him to start fighting, to kill the monster and get the hell out of Dodge, but the tentacle monster must have done something. He felt as weak as a kitten. It took a huge amount of effort just to lift his arm off of the marble pedestal. 

Dean knew that if the female monster wanted to do anything evil to him, she was free to. 

He felt distinct feminine arms wrap around his shoulders and haul him up. She brought him to a spare chair in the large room and sat him down in it. 

Dean could barely sit up by himself, so he didn’t try to fight when she began to chant in another language that Dean didn’t understand. 

While she was chanting away, Dean took account of himself. He couldn’t feel his face very well, but he knew that he’d have to worry about that later. Other than being bone tired, there was something distinct that was bothering him. He felt heavy—and not just because of the draining fight. Those things, the thick, ovular masses, had settled deep in his gut. They had stretched his stomach out, making a paunch barely visible beneath his shirt, which felt a little tighter on his form. 

His fogged mind had to confirm the fact that yes, there were objects occupying his insides. He struggled to lift his hand to his center. He rested his hand there, on his middle, and he could feel the dense weight of the masses pressing back. 

The woman finally finished chanting, her eyes flashing purple before she went quiet. She brought her fingers to Dean’s chin, lifting it so he was forced to look into her eyes. 

“ _Sleep_.”

And Dean did. 

✦✧✦✧✦

Dean woke up in the back of the Impala with his head on Cas’ lap. The angel was looking out the window into the night with a pensive look on his face. He hadn’t noticed that Dean had woken up, so Dean brought his hand up towards Cas’ face and touched the rough stubble. 

Cas looked down at him. “You’re awake,” he said. 

Dean didn’t respond and instead kept caressing Cas’ face, fascinated with the texture. The angel didn’t find it weird, and Dean was too tired to be embarrassed, but his arm finally got tired and he stopped. 

Dean must have fallen asleep because when he woke up sometime later, Cas had shaken him awake. He had regained enough strength that he was able to get to his room with little assistance. 

Sam and Cas lingered while he pulled his boots off, though. 

“You alright?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I’m alright. Tired,” he responded in a clipped tone, too exhausted to form a complex answer about what had happened earlier in the night. 

“I was able to dispatch Yokoth once we had arrived, but you were asleep in a chair. She seemed to have performed a kind of spell that kept you asleep; we were worried that you would never wake up,” Cas said. 

“Did anything happen?” Sam asked. “Were you hurt?”

“No. That bitch just got the jump on me, I guess. And then she started to open this portal and chant and—” Dean waved his hand vaguely. “Other evil things. I feel like I ran a damn marathon, but I’m ok.”

 _Did the rest of it really happen? Did he_ actually _have eggs implanted inside of him?_

Deep down, he knew it would be best to tell Sam the whole story, but he was feeling victimized over the whole thing. Sam would probably freak out about it and dive into research. Dean didn’t feel like he was being actively harmed by the _things_ , but who knew? It would be easier if he was able to figure this out for himself first. 

“Alright, well, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” Sam said, clapping him on the back. He walked back out the door and down the hall, presumably to head to bed. 

Cas turned to leave. 

“Cas, I… need to tell you something.”

“Yes?” he replied, eyes filled with concern and a will to do whatever Dean was about to ask. 

His steadfast obedience and camaraderie made Dean feel guilty. He didn’t want to take advantage of Cas’ compliance. 

“Something happened, and I just can’t bring myself to tell Sam right now. But Glythur—that _thing_ —was able to implant something inside of me. I can feel them _shifting_ , Cas. It’s something alive.”

“And… we should exterminate them?” the angel questioned. 

Dean nodded and stood up, taking a step closer to Cas. 

“And these beings—they were inserted down your throat?” he asked tentatively. 

“Yeah. I could feel each of ‘em being pushed down into my stomach. It was awful, Cas. I felt like a bad science experiment.” 

Cas ignored the poorfaced humor. “I am going to place my hand on your abdomen. Is that ok?”

Dean nodded again, closing his eyes. 

After a moment, there was a warm palm feeling along his ribcage and down towards his bellybutton. The heat grew more intense and he cracked his eyes open to see what was happening. 

Cas’ grace swirled in his irises. He looked focused, searching for whatever was inside of Dean. 

“I can see them.”

“What are they?”

“They seem to be creatures. They’re suspended in amniotic fluid inside of a thin sack. You won’t be harmed by them, though. They want you alive and well through the gestation.”

“You could tell all of that?” 

“I _am_ an angel, Dean.”

“What should I do, then? Just leave ‘em?” 

The angel removed his hand. “To get rid of them means that you are put in inherent risk, so it would be best to raise them through gestation before we dispose of them.” 

“But we don’t know anything about these things...” Dean said, resigned. 

Cas sighed. “We can do some research, but I have a feeling that these haven’t been documented before—and especially not in the circumstance where they’ve attached to a human.” 

“I appreciate it, Cas. Even if I was full on _Alien vs. Predator_ ’d, it’s good to know that these aren’t chest bursters.” 

Cas smiled at the reference this time, less worried about the threat of the situation. “Sleep well, Dean. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

✦✧✦✧✦

Dean didn’t sleep well. The weight of the eggs was pressing into other organs, hitting the nerves of his spine, and (as Dean had discovered in the middle of the night accompanied with a brief freak out) the eggs tossed and tumbled around each other _wildly_. 

He got up around 5 in the morning, watched the sun rise, sipped a cup of coffee, and let his hand hover over his gravid midsection. Then he got hungry and started to make breakfast for the occupants of the bunker. The bacon was fried, eggs over easy, and the waffles were fluffy. He even took the time to mix up some frozen orange juice in a pitcher. 

Sam came lumbering in in his flannel pajama pants and a confused look on his face, though he didn’t comment on Dean’s sudden morning activities. He poured himself a cup of orange juice and accepted the plate of breakfast foods with a quick ‘thanks’. 

When Cas didn’t show up by the time Dean was done with breakfast, Dean went to search for him. The first place that he checked was Cas’ room, and when that didn’t prove fruitful, he went down to the library and found Cas sitting at a table, stacks of books spread out around him. He had a few empty cups scattered about, a barely touched bag of chips, and an old cassette player playing music through ancient headphones. 

Dean smiled at the sight, suddenly adoring of Cas’ resilience in the face of challenges. He was researching, and likely had been all night, for _Dean_. 

Their feelings for each other, though not said outright, had become more obvious since Cas had annoyed a cosmic entity into his revival. They hadn’t talked about it, but had let things take a natural course of action. After all, they had waited 9 years—they could wait a little bit longer. 

Dean gathered the empty coffee cups while Cas paused his music and set his headphones down. 

“Good morning, Dean,” he said sweetly. 

“Mornin’, Cas. I made some breakfast. Saved some bacon for you, ya know.”

Cas dogeared the corner of the page he was reading and closed the book. 

They headed for the kitchen, casually bumping into each other from walking too close, but neither of them minding the contact. 

Cas made a beeline for the bacon left on the counter, gathering a plate of the stuff and sitting next to Dean on the picnic-styled table. 

Sam eyed their close proximity, but didn’t comment. 

Dean figured that he would find out in due time. 

Cas just looked oblivious while enjoying his bacon. 

One of the monster eggs shifted and Dean let out a stiff breath, trying to adjust to the discomfort while the creature settled down. He glanced up at Sam, who was scraping syrup off of his plate, and felt thankful that he didn’t notice Dean’s strange behavior. 

Cas seemed to notice and placed a comforting hand on Dean’s knee, seemingly understanding what was happening inside of Dean’s body. 

Dean stuffed another bite of waffle in his mouth. 

✦✧✦✧✦

With the grime from the previous day’s events, Dean felt that he needed a shower. Grabbing a loose fitting t-shirt, a pair of boxers, and some worn out jeans, Dean headed for the shower room. He pulled a towel out of a linen closet in the corner of the room and set it out with his clothes. He locked the door to the communal shower room to ensure his privacy and began to strip, starting with his shirt. 

Pulling his shirt up, he first saw the enlarged mass of his stomach. He looked like a woman somewhere around 4 months pregnant. And wasn’t _that_ a thought. 

The skin wasn’t stretched enough to have stretch marks, but his midsection was taut and full with the girth of the eggs. He looked like he either gained weight directly in his gut or he entered a pie eating contest and _won_. 

Dean placed his hand over his bump, feeling the strained skin and the creatures inside pressing back. One of them kicked at his hand, trying to move the pressure to someplace else, so Dean moved his hand aside. 

He pulled his sleep pants off and threw them next to his shirt on the ground. Adjusting the shower’s temperature, he stepped in, reveling in the water pressure. 

His mind wandered to thoughts about Cas and their relationship. They hadn’t done much other than shy kisses in hidden places, and while Dean enjoyed the low-pressure of having a private relationship, he craved more. He wanted to be able to show everyone how much he enjoyed being a part of Cas’ world. And he wanted Cas to know it, too. 

He craved more with Cas, and that meant intimacy. 

The thought of doing things with Cas, _making love_ , had Dean’s cock twitching in interest. It seemed like a bad idea—jacking off to thoughts of Cas—but it was something that he had done before, anyways. He was long past the guilt. 

He wrapped his hand around the girth of his cock, giving gentle pressure along the glans at the head, and taking care to tease along his happy trail with the other hand. His hand came up, over the mass of his stomach, to tug at a nipple. He let out a quiet groan of pleasure. 

His cock stood at full attention soon enough, and Dean fisted it, imagining that it was Cas’ rough hand stroking the shaft. 

He was close to the edge when he brought his hand down to his balls and then past them. Gently massaging the skin of his perineum, his finger strayed further, caressing his hole. 

Dean’s seed shot against the wall of the shower and he threw his head back, eyes closed, and moaned in relief. Coming down from his orgasm, he noticed that the little monsters inside of him were all twitching in annoyance at his sudden activity. 

He opened his eyes and glanced down at where the creatures were doing backflips and he watched his skin stretch around their stray limbs (however many they had). The lumps moved and extended in the limited space, pushing the bulge of his stomach around. Dean could feel them push on his organs, making him groan in discomfort. 

It kind of killed his post-orgasm glow, but not completely. The feeling of life inside of him, and the proof of it showing on his body, made his cock make an attempt to rise again. It couldn’t, of course. He was getting too old to go for more than one round. 

Dean caressed his stomach, suddenly seeing it in another light. He wondered if it would get much bigger than it was. With enough nutrition, it only made sense, right?

The thought of having them use his body as a sort of incubation chamber got Dean hot and bothered—and wasn’t that a weird thought?

✦✧✦✧✦

The creatures were much more active that night and Dean knew that he wasn’t getting a wink of sleep. He grabbed his pillow and made the trek down the hall to Cas’ room. He knocked gently and walked in, taking in the scene. 

Cas was lounging on the bed in an undershirt with the covers pulled up to his lap. His pillow was propped behind his head and he was watching TV, only looking over when Dean entered the room. He wordlessly pulled the covers back in invitation when he saw the bags under Dean’s eyes. 

Dean laid his pillow down next to Cas and tentatively got under the covers, tucking himself in in preparation for sleep. 

“Would you like me to put you to sleep, Dean?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “The little buggers are really active and I can’t sleep.” 

Cas threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair, brushing the hair away from his face. “Goodnight, love.”

And Dean fell into a grace-induced, dreamless sleep. 

✦✧✦✧✦

Dean knew that he had to tell Sam eventually. Lying would lead to more problems, and Dean didn’t want Sam to have any reason to distrust him. They were a team, a unit, and it needed to stay that way. 

They were running low on supplies, so Dean jumped at the opportunity to bring Sam along. Using the Impala as a mediation ground usually helped Dean to get his thoughts under control so he could spit out whatever he needed to say. 

With the asphalt under his tires, Sam and Dean drove away from the bunker and in the direction of town. Costco was close to 45 minutes away, so Dean thought through what he was going to say before he started. 

He hit the power button on the radio, silencing Bob Dylan, before he took a breath. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell ya, uh, what happened the other night.”

From the corner of his eye, Sam looked on expectantly, waiting for Dean to continue. But Dean didn’t dare to take his eyes off of the road, especially when his panicking could get them smashed between a guardrail and a semi truck. 

“Yokoth, I think that’s what her name was, had opened that portal ‘cause her mate hadn’t made it through at first. And she wanted to demolish the human race with her offspring. Typical evil shit.”

Sam nodded. “Cas filled me in on that, Dean. Glythur nearly made it through but he decided to go back,” he said with a shrug. 

“But that ain’t the whole story. Glythur did get through the portal, but you weren’t there to see it. And his offspring? Well—he decided to use me as the host.” 

The younger hunter doesn't speak for a short while, silenced by the new information he was receiving. He eventually spoke. 

“What are you saying, Dean?”

“I’m saying that he—” Dean couldn’t spit the words out, so he paused. “He pretty much knocked me up.”

“ _You’re_ —” Sam looked out the window at a loss for words. He ran his hands through his hair, tangling it more in his stress, before he tried to continue the conversation. “There’s something _inside_ of you?”

“I didn’t think I’d have to explain the birds and the bees, Sammy.”

“How the hell do we get rid of it?” he said with a sense of urgency. 

“We don’t. Cas said some mumbo-jumbo about them being attached to my nervous system. They aren’t going to hurt me, but they’re just a pain in the ass.”

“ _They_? As in more than one?”

“Yu _p_.” Dean made a popping noise to accent the ‘p’. “There’s 17, as far as I know.”

“And these were inserted…” Sam made a crude finger gesture, wincing with the action. 

“Even better—they were pushed down my throat. I couldn’t feel most of it ‘cause the S.O.B. had some kind of numbing gel, but it wasn’t fun.”

Sam’s eyes now lingered on Dean’s form, as if he was trying to X-ray vision his way through Dean’s clothes. 

“Stop staring.” 

Sam’s eyes snapped away from Dean and back out the window, suddenly interested in the state highway signs. 

Dean turned the radio back on. 

✦✧✦✧✦

With as much toilet paper that would possibly fit into the Impala stuffed in the back seat, the Winchester brothers began to drive the long route back to the bunker. They had silently decided not to speak, instead losing themselves in their own thoughts during the entire drive back. 

When they got back, Dean pulled into the garage and parked the Impala in her spot. They began to unload the supplies, but Sam made a point to carry all of the heavy items, leaving Dean to carry the boxes of food and packs of toilet paper. 

He didn’t mention the coddling to Sam, or even Cas when he began to do the same thing (but only while carrying what Sam considered to be several trips worth of groceries. He was definitely showing off for Dean). 

He was finishing putting Sam’s conditioner in the shower room when Cas finally found him. Dean had some towels piled in his arms when he felt even stronger arms wrap around his waist. They settled on his growing stomach, carefully encapsulating it with warmth. 

Dean gave a dramatic sigh, a smile gracing his face. “How _ever_ am I going to get out of this trap that you’ve ensnared me in?” he deadpanned. 

Cas snorted at the unenthusiastic humor, carefully untangling his arms from around Dean. “I will be merciful.” 

Dean turned around and looked Cas up and down. He was still wearing his tax accountant get-up, but Dean had been slowly convincing him to loosen up. He had lost the tie and taken off the suit jacket, leaving him in his usual slacks, dress shirt and trench coat. It wasn’t very much, but it was progress. 

But even without the bulk of the suit jacket, Cas’ outfit was more form-fitting. Meaning that Dean could admire the way the dress shirt stretched across his chest and the way the trenchcoat’s fabric stressed over his biceps. 

Huh. 

Ever since Dean had had his encounter with Glythur, he had been having increasingly lewd thoughts about Cas. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“Dean,” he said fondly. “How was your trip?”

“I told Sam.”

“Ah, yes. I assumed that’s why he can’t speak currently.”

“Pretty much. He’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it, but he hasn’t been _that_ pissed at me.”

“I’m very happy that you decided to tell him. That takes a lot of strength, Dean. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but what happened to you could be seen as traumatic, and I do understand what you went through.” Cas set a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Dean decided not to respond and instead brought his lips to Cas’ cheek. He felt the blood rush to his face in a vibrant blush. He ignored it, and hoped that Cas got the message. 

A spark lit up in Cas’ eyes. He brought the hand still resting on Dean’s shoulder up to the man’s face, caressing over his temple and cheek. The angel then trailed his hand down to Dean’s chin. 

Dean felt the kiss before he thought about it. Cas’ lips were smooth and conformed perfectly to Dean’s mouth. It was bliss—something that Dean hadn’t felt before with his other partners. Cassie had been too rough, easily dominating his lips; Lisa had been too quick with it. She didn’t take the time to savor the intimacy. 

Cas, though. Cas somehow kissed him just right (full _Goldilocks_ style). It made Dean’s heart alight with something akin to love. 

_(Was it too early to use the L-word?)_

Dean kissed deeper, pressing his body closer to Cas’ while searching out his mouth. He could feel his heartbeat picking up, the blood flowing to his lower extremities. 

And Cas, seemingly innocent Cas, moaned. It was dirty and untamed, and just the sound of it made Dean’s arousal grow into an inferno of heat. 

Cas’ mouth trailed lower towards Dean’s throat. Their increasingly heavy breathing echoed in the shower room, reminding Dean where they were at, and, more importantly, what they were doing. 

“Cas. _Cas_ ,” Dean interrupted. 

The angel ignored Dean’s words, likely interpreting them as moans. He continued to kiss trails across Dean’s neck, occasionally stopping to leave light hickeys. 

Dean gently pushed the angel away from his body. 

Cas looked up, confusion painted on his face. 

“We need to talk before we do anything more serious, and if we do, this ain’t the place to do it in.”

Cas nodded in agreement. 

“But before any of that, there’s something I need to tell ya: I think the little monsters are messing with my head. I’ve been having the weirdest thoughts about you. I mean, I think you’re an attractive man, but I haven’t been this horny since I’ve been a teen, and I don’t wanna do anything intimate unless I’m sure that it’s _me_ wanting it.” 

“Oh, Dean, you could have told me,” he replied with an understanding look in his eyes. They then lit up with grace, the blue swirling in his irises. 

This time, he carefully set his hand over Dean’s abdomen—over the swell there. 

“You seem to be gaining a mating drive, similar to how many animals enter eustress. You are in a stage where you will crave sex, but since I am your ‘mate’, then you will likely crave it with me.” Cas said the word ‘mate’ with finger quotes and a squint. 

“And it won’t hurt them, right?”

“They have created neuroreceptors that are driving you towards a certain goal. If they wanted to hurt themselves, then you wouldn’t be feeling like this, Dean. But I also understand if you don’t want to. This is your body, afterall, and I can’t pressure you into things you don’t want.” 

“It’s not that, Cas. I’ve had a lot of _thoughts_ about you for a long time, but I didn’t want to hurt these little guys because of my own stupidity. They don’t deserve that. But I also don’t want to take such a big step in our relationship without being solid on what I want.”

After a bit of hesitance, Dean continued, biting his lip in contemplation. “I think I should start on dinner first. But we can finish this later tonight, ok? I don’t want Sam to barge in because he can’t find the peanut butter.” 

Cas gave a joyous little smile and nodded in understanding. “Tonight.”

“Tonight, then.” 

✦✧✦✧✦

After Dean had wolfed down his fair share of dinner, earning a _look_ from Sam when he had a few bites of salad, he retired to his room. Sam had taken over the dishes, letting Cas dry while he washed to maximize efficiency. 

Dean set out to make his first night with Cas _perfect_. The dusty candles from one of the Men of Letters storage closets were lit, the lighting was dimmed enough to make it personal, and the bedside table was _stocked_ with lube and condoms. 

The only thing that Dean needed was for Cas to hurry the hell up and join him in bed. He sighed (no, not wistfully—shut _up_ ) and laid out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His hand crept towards his middle, palpating the weight there, before it went lower, teasing over his cock. 

Cas would be in the room at any moment, but Dean was feeling restless with need. He needed _some_ type of stimulation, and so be it if it had to be his own right hand. 

He thrust up onto the seam of his jeans, enjoying the subtle dragging of his cock. In response, the lil’ monsters squirmed. Dean repeated the action, but more slowly, trying to get the creatures to shift again. They responded in turn, twisting and turning in the confines of Dean’s insides. 

Dean moaned aloud, bringing his hand over where they were squirming, and then pushing his shirt up to get a better feel of the action. They pressed against his taut skin enough that he could feel each individual limb that they had, even if he was unsure how many there were. 

Dean unbuttoned his jeans with one hand, then dragged the zipper down ever so slowly, just to tease himself further. 

Cas’ footsteps sounded down the hall, coming closer, and Dean felt giddy with excitement. They were finally going to consummate their relationship— _of course_ Dean was happy. 

The door creaked open, and Dean looked up into Cas’ eyes. His blue irises had fallen on Dean’s swollen middle, suddenly lusty and dilated in arousal. 

The angel shut and locked the door behind him, then dropped his coat off of his firm shoulders and onto the ground. Dean was thankful that he’d convinced the angel to lose the suit jacket, as Cas was one step closer to being _nude_ and _moaning_ and _spread out on the mattress_. 

Dean took a breath to steady himself, willing his arousal to calm down. He was going to come prematurely if these thoughts continued. 

Unbuttoning the cuffs of his white shirt with ease, Cas didn’t waste time to make his impromptu strip-show impressive—but it was, nonetheless. 

The way that his taut body stretched under the straining shirt was arousing in the most intense way. Cas was fucking jacked. And those arms… Dean really want to have his face smooshed into the mattress while Cas held him down and pounded him 6 ways to Sunday. 

Dean’s cock twitched, interested in his fantasy. 

Just as Cas was going to unzip his straining suit pants, he hesitated. “And you’re _absolutely sure_ that you want this?” 

It was cute, watching Cas asks for consent more times than Dean could count in a day, but there was such a thing as asking one too many times. 

“I swear to God, if you ask that one more time, I’m going to tie you down and fuck myself with the nearest dildo. For the last time: _yes_.”

Cas seemed a little shocked and a little more aroused at the visual, but he seemed to get the message anyway. He dropped his pants, kicking them off to the side, before he approached Dean. 

Slipping the hunter’s jeans off of his slim hips, Cas set to work on kissing over every inch of Dean’s exposed skin. He started out gently, unsure of his actions, but with every hitched breath from Dean, he grew bolder. He trailed his lips from Dean’s collarbones, to teasing at his sensitive nipple, and finally, to the border of his briefs. 

From his angle, he could see the wide swell of Dean’s stomach, and how it reached a peak at his navel. He kissed the area where the swell rose between the curves of his hip bones, right where the mound faded into his pubic bone. 

Dean shuddered, thrusting his hips up and causing his hard erection to bump into where Cas’ chest was hovering over Dean’s center. 

At Dean’s moan, Cas eased Dean’s snug briefs down with a finger, letting his leaking cock out of its confines. 

Cas lowered himself further down on the mattress, gently placing a kiss on the head of Dean’s cock. He continued the ministrations down the swollen length, teasing carefully and playing Dean like a fiddle. 

He eventually took the cockhead into his mouth, caressing it with wet heat. And in one quick move, he slowly lowered his mouth down the wet length, effectively letting the cock bump into the back of his throat. 

Dean babbled nonsensically, arching in pleasure. Maybe Dean couldn’t see as well over his gravid midsection, but he could definitely _feel_ what Cas was doing to him. 

“ _Fuck_ , C-Cas.”

Cas started to bob his head, working the base of Dean’s cock with a stray hand, milking him for all he was worth. 

Eventually, Dean found himself getting too close to the edge. He didn’t want the fun to be over just yet, so he grabbed Cas’ shoulder, and stopped him. 

“Cas, baby, this shows about to be over if you don’t stop.”

The angel pulled off with a lewd _pop_ , wiping the edges of his mouth on the back of his hand. “Then let's get this show on the road,” he announced with a smirk. 

Dean sat up the best he could and reached over to the bed stand, pulling out a new bottle of lube and a string of condoms—he couldn’t be too optimistic.

Cas was now sitting on his haunches, watching Dean struggle to pull the plastic off of the new bottle of lubricant. 

Dean eventually threw the scraps somewhere off the bed before he was attacked by Cas’ mouth kissing and sucking at his neck. 

The hunter moaned in reprieve, enjoying the sensation while Cas laid him down on the bed, taking the lube with him. 

Dean was distracted by Cas’ ministrations, but he felt when Cas pulled his thighs apart with a nudge, baring Dean to his attention. His cock was stroked once more for luck, eliciting a moan from Dean, but he truly gasped when he felt the pad of the angel’s fingers caressing over his hole. 

The action stopped for a moment, but the fingers returned, now lubed up and ready. Cas’ gently began to tease at Dean’s hole, slowly but surely pressing inside, exploring the heat. 

The next thing Dean knew, Cas had two fingers pressing inside, filling him, and teasing at his prostate. The pleasure was overwhelming, especially coming from his lover, so Dean was caught by surprise when his orgasm overtook him, not giving him a chance to warm Cas. 

He spilled his seed over his heavy stomach, panting and moaning while he came down from the height of climax. 

“Would you like to continue?” Cas asked, unsure. 

“Wasn’t expecting to come that soon,” Dean replied, disappointed. He really wanted to get to the main event, what they had been building up to, but he would take what he could get. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We can continue.” 

Cas leant down and gave Dean a gentle kiss, and sparks shot through his body, surging from his chest to his toes, and eliciting a warmth in his cock. 

And just like that, he was hard again. Thank God for an angel boyfriend. 

“Warm a guy, will ya?” Dean grumbled, though happily. At least they could finish what they started… 

Cas’ fingers, which hadn’t been removed from Dean’s body, were now pulled out. He wiped his hand on the sheet that had Dean’s cooling come on it, and ripped a condom package off the string. 

Dean hesitated. “Cas… I don’t think we need those.”

Cas looked the foil package over and tossed it over his shoulder, letting it fall to the floor. “I assumed it was some human formality. I know that you have never contracted diseases, but maybe you _didn’t_ want to feel my release filling you up.”

“Uh, Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Will you _please_ keep talking like that?” Dean begged. 

Cas quirked a brow at the new information. “You want me to stuff you full of my come, Dean? You want to be marked by me?”

Dean nodded frantically, his cock bobbing comedically with the full body motion. 

Cas was quick to lube up his cock, making it slick and shiny in the dim light. He didn’t waste time in lining it up with Dean’s entrance, sliding it home in one continuous, torturous thrust. 

Even though Dean relaxed as much as he could, Cas was thick and _girth-y_ , and it burned a little bit. He took a deep breath to try and relax away the feeling, letting the angel’s steady breathing guide him. 

And then Cas started an unwavering rhythm, pulling back until the head of his cock _just_ popped out before thrusting back in to the hilt. 

It wasn’t long before Cas set a punishing pace, forcing Dean’s body further up the bed with every thrust. Lost in the primal urge to seek pleasure, the angel lifted Dean’s leg up on his shoulder to get a better angle. 

Dean yelled in pleasure, toeing the line between overstimulation and the coalescence of ecstasy. He clung tight to Cas’ frame as his orgasm wracked through his body, making him squirm with sensitivity. 

Dean was starting to feel sore when Cas finally peaked and released his seed deep inside of Dean. He didn’t hide his wince as Cas pulled out 

Panting and sticky with fluids, they both rolled over in bed, attempting to catch their breath. 

Dean felt it before he saw it, but the lil’ monsters were going _insane_. He winced and looked down at his domed stomach and his eyes widened at what he saw. 

His stomach looked _bigger_. 

It was probably a trick of the light then? It wouldn’t make sense for them to suddenly sprout up after a (magnificent) round of sex. He looked over at Cas. 

The angel was doing the squint-and-tilt-the-head thing while also examining Dean’s form. They looked at eachother and Cas raised a brow. He brought his hand over Dean’s middle, grace-powered light beginning to seep from his skin, his eyes glowing a dull blue. 

“They growing, Dean.”

“But _why_?”

Cas gave a small gasp, his eyes unfocused, before he continued. 

“Our connection—they thrive off of the rushing hormones, the blood flow, but it’s also the—the…” The angel hesitated, unsure of how to describe it. “ _Love_ ,” he finally finished, eyes no longer swirling with grace. 

Dean’s heart may have had a palpitation at the L-word, but the more he thought about it, the more the word seemed to be accurate. Him and Cas… they’d had their freaky bond for the longest time, and what was once lust towards one another had transformed into something else entirely. And _love_ seemed to be the word for it. 

The angel set the hovering hand over Dean’s middle, stroking the skin there. He was watching Dean carefully, waiting for a reaction, a freak-out— _anything_. 

Dean took hold of Cas’ hand, removed it from his belly, and brought the knuckles to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on the back of the angel’s hand. “I think that’s the right word.”

Cas sat up and delved into a deep kiss, scooting closer on the queen-sized mattress. 

They held each other and drifted off to sleep. 

✦✧✦✧✦

Weeks went by and the lil’ monsters continued to grow. They seemed to get a growth spurt when emotions were running high or when Dean was feeling especially horny, but they also seemed to enjoy being near Cas. 

They squirmy bastards always seemed to calm in the angel’s presence, like they knew that he was their papa or something. 

Dean had a sneaking suspicion that Cas could somehow communicate with them, albeit simplistically. He was always hyper-focused on Dean’s form when he thought Dean wasn’t paying attention. Whether he spoke to them while Dean was sleeping or through some telepathic bond didn’t matter to Dean. What mattered was that whenever he was with Cas, they stopped playing soccer with his insides. 

So, Dean generally tried to stay where Cas was. 

Their relationship, of course, was blooming into something wonderful and Dean really had _no_ idea why he was ever scared to be with Cas. Sure, he was insecure at times, and their hunting lifestyle meant that they could never settle down, or that they might be there one day and gone the next, or that Cas would finally become bored with human life and leave. 

Maybe there was a reason Dean was scared, after all… 

But, nonetheless, things were going great. And Dean was happy. Cas seemed happy enough. Sam still looked at Dean with a mixture of pity and scientific analysis. (Dean still needed to get the whole pregnant thing through Sam’s thick skull.) 

But things were running smoothly. 

Until Dean woke up with his arms and legs pinned down to the bed, and Yokoth above him, chanting away in some other dimension’s language. 

He tried to pull at his invisible bonds, but Dean was stuck solid, so he tried to yell instead. But his mouth suddenly refused to open. 

Yokoth’s eyes were glowing purple, her arms spread wide, looking up at the ceiling like it was the deity she was worshipping. 

Her vocalizations got more intense, and Dean suddenly felt a twinge in his lower abdomen. Like a ripple of a wave, his while middle tensed up, flexing upwards at the sudden pain. 

And then it was gone. 

The chanting stopped, Yokoth was gone, Dean’s limbs were free, and Dean could now yell for help. The only hint that something had even happened there was the lingering soreness in his core muscles. He felt like he’d done a thousand crunches. 

He called out for Cas, worried that if he moved, something bad would happen. 

Cas came rushing in, a tornado whipping through the door, before he looked frantically around the room and searched for any lingering threat. 

“Dean? Dean, are you alright?”

“I—I saw Yokoth here. She started chanting and then my stomach hurt and then she was just gone,” Dean replied, shocked by the rapid succession of events. 

Cas didn’t hesitate and sent his grace directly into Dean’s middle. He looked confused at the information he was processing, but then he seemed to understand. 

“Yokoth was not trying to hurt you, and it seems like she has given you better… _equipment_ to deliver the young ones.” 

“Jesus Christ, Cas. I really thought she was doing something terrible to the lil’ guys,” Dean breathed, relieved. 

“I am surprised, however, that she is still alive. When we first found you, I had smited her to dust. It seemed rather unlikely that she would reform, but she seems very capable of sustainable magic.”

“Yeah, well. Her universe might have different laws or something.” Dean moved to get up, but struggled with his newfound offset balance. Things seemed to be getting more difficult to do lately. 

Cas helped him up and they walked (more like _waddled_ ) through to the hall and down a set of stairs, to the hidden tub that was set up in the basement. Some lucky Man or Woman of Letters had coveted the thing, likely on account of the direct route the pipes had to the boiler. The water was always hot and never ran out. 

Cas set the water to the right temperature before helped Dean get undressed, gathering the clothes in his arms and dumping them in a pile in a corner of the small room. 

Getting Dean into the tub was a little different, on account of the high sides of the tub. Dean was often off-balance, so Cas gingerly helped him lower himself down. 

Once Dean was situated and enjoying the heat of the water, Cas brought the dirty clothes back up the stairs and to the room where they did the laundry. He pulled a towel from the linen closet, grabbed a shirt and sweatpants from Dean’s drawers, and went back down to the hidden spa. 

Cas knew that Dean was tired, and he wasn’t surprised when he found Dean drooling on himself while he slept in the tub. 

✦✧✦✧✦

A week went by, filled with Dean’s demand for waffles, endless cuddles, and Sam’s consistent, overbearing, care. Dean hadn’t expected for the lil’ monsters to be ready so soon—just weeks after being… _conceived_ —so he was surprised when he felt a pulse of pain in his back during the night. 

He had been sound asleep, tucked into Cas’ warmth, when he woke up to the discomfort. His midriff felt tight, well along into his back and flank. 

Dean grabbed for Cas’ form, breathing through the sting of pain, and shook the angel awake. 

Cas woke up disheveled, squinting in the low light from the night light Dean had forced him to install, and looked around until realization fell upon his face. 

The angel didn’t waste time in assisting Dean out of the covers, leading him slowly down the hall towards their secret jacuzzi. Cas knocked on Sam’s door in the process, letting him know what was happening. After a disgusted look from a wild-haired Sam, they continued down the stairs and into the bathroom. 

Dean had a pain-irritated look on his face while he sat on the edge of the tub waiting for the water to fill. 

He didn’t say much, but Cas knew that he was trying to hide his pain through it all—ever the hunter. 

After lowering Dean into the steaming water, that’s when the real pain began. 

✦✧✦✧✦

They were nasty, wriggling things with too many teeth and slimy bodies. But they were also easy to take care of, and, surprisingly, seemed to sense emotions on a level that was uncanny. 

At first, not one of the three men had any idea what to feed the lil’ things. They tried milk, lamb’s blood, bread, and about half of the pantry. The slimy things hadn’t wanted any of it, wriggling away from what was offered. 

Dean worried that they would starve, but Cas calmly scooped one up in his arms, and the monster, once angry and flitting, calmed and seemed to fall asleep. 

The angel explained that they fed off of the cosmic energy that he radiated, his grace. And while they all needed to ‘eat’, they didn’t consume enough for his grace to feel any effects. 

From then on, Cas became the official caretaker while Dean recovered from the taxing they took on his body. 

After Sam had warmed up to the scary-upon-a-glance monsters, he really enjoyed seeing what they could do in terms of limitations. He was the one who discovered that they could shapeshift. 

He was talking to one of the little buggers, one he affectionately called Screwey because one of his tentacles always settled into a corkscrew shape, and he noticed that the thing was staring intensely at Sam’s journal log. 

Sam turned around to grab a bite of his sandwich, and when he turned back around, there was a book where the black monster had once been. The only reason he didn’t run and look for the little monster was the fact that the book was slowly seeping goo from the binding. 

The book morphed into a black puddle of goo, and then back into Screwey. 

Sam’s eyes widened. He ran to find Cas, cradling Screwey in his arms. 

✦✧✦✧✦

The other 16 monsters began to shapeshift after Screwey had. The hunters would all find gooey objects in the bunker, from a plunger to a small, fluffy cat that Cas had sworn he’d _never_ seen before. 

Finally, about a month after they’d been born, they began to get human traits. Formerly silent, they began to make grunting, babbling noises when they squirmed around. One of them decided that it needed an ear on it’s back. 

All steadily growing larger thanks to Cas’ dedicated care, it wasn’t a surprise when Sam found a 5-year-old boy in his room looking through his movie collection. Screwey, which would probably get a new name now that he was a _human child_ , looked up and made a noise of approval when he saw Sam. 

Pointing to some chick flick that the boy had taken an affinity to, the blonde boy made another noise in urgency. 

Sam got the memo and started the DVD on the TV before he left to find Dean and Cas. 

Staring, their jaws all dropped at the scene before them, Screwey finally noticed their presence and jumped off the bed, grabbing Dean and Cas’ hands, and dragged them to the bed to watch the show. 

Settled between the angel and the hunter, Screwey didn’t notice their incredulous looks. 

✦✧✦✧✦

Life settled into a rhythm, with 17 scarily smart monster-children running around the bunker. They, however, didn’t stay children for long. Developing language and growing into teenagers before everyone’s eyes, they were cared for. When they began to exhibit the full range of human emotion, they were comforted and uplifted, forming into strong individuals with their own quirks. 

When some of them inevitably went off into the world, Dean cried, but he still felt grateful for the few that wanted to stay and learn about hunting. 

Where Dean was once in a poor situation, he couldn’t help but feel proud of his children’s ability to flourish. And Sam and Cas couldn’t agree more. 


End file.
